


Painted in flames/all peeling thunder/be the lightening in me/ that strikes relentless

by forever_nerd



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, I am hungry for Deckerstar, Insatiable Chloe, Light Angst, Oral Sex, SPOILER ALERT season 5 trailer, Sexual Content, Soft Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Softness, Wall Sex, taking care of each other, they are so hungry for each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:27:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25570546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forever_nerd/pseuds/forever_nerd
Summary: BEWARE SPOILER!!!!Do not continue if you have not watched season 5 trailer!!!!!!!My take on what happens with Deckerstar and those damn walls.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar
Comments: 44
Kudos: 300





	Painted in flames/all peeling thunder/be the lightening in me/ that strikes relentless

**Author's Note:**

> So. Starving for Deckerstar, of course.
> 
> Violent_ends started writing her take and I got hungry for mine!
> 
> A lot of emotional smut.
> 
> I repeat SPOILERS ahead!!!!

  
She can feel her stomach doing somersaults as the elevetor rides up. She turns to the mirror, looking at herself.

Right now she feels like she is looking too pale in her blood red silk blouse, too fancy for the person he knows.

There's a slight tremor in her fingers, a jittery energy that she has no idea how to get rid of.

All too soon the elevator dings cheerily, its doors opening, and Chloe steps out looking for the Devil, her nerves a thousand little spiders crawling on her skin.

He is standing by the piano, an untouched drink in his hand, looking painfully handsome in his suit.

Just like she remembers him.

Their eyes meet.

She smiles a little but his eyes remain solemn, his lips curved downwards.

The somersaulting turns into painful twisting.

"Hey," she says breaking the silence. Her voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he walks closer to her, his hand outstretched towards his caramel sofa. She takes a seat.

"Detective. Thank you for coming on such short notice."

Wrong, wrong, _wrong_.

It feels _so_ wrong.

Almost as if this is another imposter.

This isn't supposed to be how this goes.

Their reunion isn't supposed to be a formal, cold thing.

"Of course. It wasn't a problem," she says and perhaps she is a much better actress than she gives herself credit for.

His stare is unnerving, too intense and she can't match his words with his eyes.

He clears his throat.

"Um, a drink?" he offers, never forgetting his manners.

"Yes, please." She will definitely need alcohol for whatever he has to tell her.

He returns with her drink and as he hands her the tumbler their fingers touch, fast, warm, electric. They lock eyes again and he breaks the spell, staightening his body with a jerk and moving to the armchair across from her.

So this is how it's going to be.

Her eyes burn with unshed tears and she brings the tumbler to her lips, taking a long pull.

She feels so silly now, all dressed up for what looks like yet another rejection.

"I wanted to apologise on my brother's behalf. And mine. Again you were placed in the middle of celestial family drama as you have in the past, once more my involvement in your life putting you in danger. If something had happened to you..."

His fingers tighten around the glass and they both hear the small crack in the crystal tumbler.

He sets it on the table.

"I am fine Lucifer. And honestly? Whatever his reasons may have been Michael saved my life twice. I can't really be mad at him. Not for long anyway."

"He's a bloody bastard, Detective," he says and his voice isn't angry or vindictive. It's hurt and bitter and she can't help but wonder what was it that came between them. What torn twin brothers apart? Probably God. Yet more proof of what an awful father the Creator has been.

But that's not the point here.

"He's made quite the mess here and I--" he stands suddenly and moves to the bar, filling another tumbler almost to the brim.

She waits for him to resume talking, hands cradling her own drink. However, nothing can go past her lips now. And her tears slip much easier with alcohol in her system and she _won't_ cry here. Before him. _Not_ again.

"I wanted to apologise for whatever... _intimacy_ you may have, um, shared," he spits out with great difficulty and empties his drink. "I can't imagine how violated you must have felt upon realizing that he wasn't... Wasn't who you thought."

"Thank you. But I'd hardly call it intimacy. It didn't take long for me to realize that something was up. I think I know you quite well. Even better than your brother."

She smiles a little. He looks pained. Her eyes focus on her drink again.

"I was just--" does he deserve this bit of truth? She's not certain but she will give it to him regardless. " _So_ happy to see your face. So excited that you were back..."

"Detective.... _Chloe_. I wish..." he looks so anguished and torn that she can't take it. She can't t help but wonder what it was like for him... Was it thousands of years as his not so perfect doppelganger had told her? Was it as tormenting, as awful as she imagines it to be?

"What? What do you wish for?"

"That I could be worthy of your affection... That I deserved you."

"Back to that, huh?" she asks with a bitter laugh.

"Trust me Chloe, you are better off without me."

"Unfortunately, it doesn't surprise me that you would think so. But did you ever think about what _I_ want? What _my_ take is on all this? You've been making unilateral decisions about this thing between us from the beginning. I am sick and tired of it."

She wants her anger to overshadow every other emotion but her voice is a pitiful thing, sad and broken.

"Chloe I--"

"So this is why you called me here? To say your goodbyes?"

Her lips twist as she tries to reign in her tears and she stands, wanting out of here as much as leaving may hurt.

As much as she can't bear the thought of not touching him, not kissing him.

But what more is she to do? She has begged him before and given the results she's not willing to do it again.

He stands too, his hands clenched into fists on his side, a panicked, feral look in his eyes.

"Chloe... I _can't_ stay," he says and his words are bullets ripping through her heart.

_Oh, what a foolish thing to hope._

"What am I to ask of you? A life full of _waiting_? What could I _possibly_ offer to you? Small stolen moments, borrowed time with a damaged, irrevocably hurt...man?"

_Yes. Yes. Ask me._

"Hardly seems fair for you."

The decision has been made it seems.

"Okay, Lucifer," she says, oddly calm despite the whole heart breaking thing. _Again_.  
"I just... I hate the thought of you there, alone... If there was any way I could help, I would."

She smoothes her hair, her fingers twisting the chain around her neck, a nervous habit. 

He stares at that spot, jaw clenched tight.

"Thank you for helping with Michael." His eyes snap back into hers. "It wasn't your fault, nor you responsibility. I--  
Take care of yourself Lucifer."

She walks to the elevator, her heart a mess of broken, sharp pieces lodged in her throat but her mask in place.

She was without Lucifer Morningstar in her life before and she would be so again.

It wasn't the end of the fucking world _dammit._

Even if it felt like it.

Just before she reaches the elevator she turns around to look at him one last time.

This creature that owns her heart so completely and is once more running away with it.

He is looking at her too.

His eyes speak plenty for him. Dark but so soft and full of emotion, he stares at her as if she is the one leaving him behind, his heart clutched in her fingers.

He's looking at her as if he's barely holding himself back.

_Oh Lucifer. Why are you so afraid of what you desire?_

It takes but a moment.

She doesn't know who moves first or if they take that step together.

In two strides he is onto her, one hand wrapping around her waist and the other cradling her head, pulling her to him.

They come together in a kiss that is both tender and hard, like him, like her.

It burns her but it also soothes; having his lips on her is like finally breaking the surface after being underwater for far too long. The relief is so intense that she wants to cry but this is neither the time nor the place for this.

Now, there's only him and this thing that has been growing between them for too long, constantly neglected, ignored.

But not anymore.

Now she'll take whatever he has to give her.

And he has a lot to give.

He's a maelstrom, a hurricane, a perfect black hole-once his arms touch her skin there is nothing beyond him.

Only Lucifer.

His touch, his lips, the unnatural heat of him.

Her hands lay trapped between their bodies and she can feel his heart beating frantically, an echo of her own.

That first kiss melts into another and another, kisses that crest like powerful waves or lick into her with the softest of lappings. Her hands cling to his vest and when he moves, not gracefully but with stumbling steps, she follows, unwilling to let any space between them.

When he pushes her against those ancient stones, his body flush to hers, his lips crashing into hers for a searing kiss, Chloe feels flames licking at every fiber of her being.

Her hands move to his face, cradling his cheeks, keeping him her willing prisoner as his lips breathe life back into her.

He pulls away only to whisper her name at the corner of her mouth and she has but one request, one sole desire.

"Don't stop. _Please_ don't stop."

His lips move lower, leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses and nips while her hands move to his shoulders running over skin that lays hidden under too many layers of expensive clothes.

He kisses up her throat, his nose dragging on her skin, his breath hot and laboured and she shivers, her body writhing under a storm of sensations.

He doesn't leave an inch of skin unkissed, lips closing around her chin and then higher still, until their noses bump tenderly and they share the same breath.

It's incredibly intimate, more so than any moment they've shared, and Chloe feels an overwhelming desire to stay in this moment forever.

A heavenly loop of her own making- his eyes hungry on her, his hands digging into her skin and the taste of his breath on her tongue.

It's perfect, it is, but it's not _enough_.

Trembling fingers find his shirt buttons and slip them one by one out of their eyelets as Lucifer keeps kissing and kissing, his hands leaving burning trails on her ribcage. Her progress is hindered by his stupid vest so she deals with those first, fingers hasty and impatient.

She expects a chuckle, a sly smile, a naughty remark, but Lucifer remains silent, and only groans on her skin when her fingers push his vest off of him and slip inside his shirt, touching his chest and his collarbones for the first time ever.

He straightens, his deft fingers unbuttoning the last ones until she can finally push it off of him. Her hands move on the planes of his body, his muscles quivering when her fingers glide over them. She leans forward and kisses one specific freckle that stands out, right on his clavicle.

He makes a sound low in his throat that makes Chloe feel weak everywhere , his fingers just shy of painful as they dig deeper into her flesh.

She lifts her arms and in a wordless communication his fingers gather the silky material as they climb up her sides, higher and higher until it's finally, thankfully, off. She can't wait to feel his skin on hers.

After all the hot tub high school obsession she expected his entire attention focused on her breasts.

But he still manages to surprise her. His eyes are fixated on her bullet necklace, resting just above her breastbone.

His index finger follows the lines of the chain delicately, until they reach the bullet which he thumbs carefully, with unnecessary tenderness.

"You are wearing it," he marvels quietly. "And not just tonight. I saw it," he says, probably referring to their first actual meeting.

"I never take it off. You feel... closer when it hangs around my neck, next to my heart. My lucky charm."

"You... thought ... of me?" he asks slowly, with a childlike hesitance.

"All the time," she tells him,as honest as she can be, and he can go on and make whatever he wants out of it.

He kisses her, sweetly, chastely.

"You were the only source of light in perpetual darkness, Chloe. The Devil's only thought, only hope."

How is she supposed to react to that? She wants to be his comfort and at the same time she can feel his ache, his despair as an echo in her own body, their hearts, their souls interconnected if such a thing is possible.

"Let me show you just how much you mean to me," he whispers on her cheekbone, kissing her beauty mark, and she can feel his fingers running up her back, warm and so large, unclasping her bra. His thumbs push down the straps slowly until he can pull it off, throwing it on the floor carelessly.  
He stares enraptured, cupping her breasts, squeezing softly, his thumbs circling her nipples.

She whimpers, lost in a haze, a world between fantasy and reality where she gets to keep him, where his touch is reserved for her only.

His eyes flash red for only a moment and her insides tighten in delicious anticipation.

Was there really a time when these beautiful eyes scared her?

His hands wrap around her thighs suddenly and pick her up, bringing her breasts level with his face. He licks and kisses around her nipple before taking it between his lips and Chloe can't help the needy moan that leaves her lips.

"I thought I'd never get to hear you make such sounds." He licks between her breasts. She grabs his hair, pulling a little and he groans, low and desperate, and she's had enough.

"I don't want to wait anymore," she tells him. He lowers her a little bringing them face to face and she can feel his erection pressing against her. He's big and hard and just about _perfect_.

"Won't you let me kiss you first? I'd die for a taste of you," he pleads.

"Not now. Later," she says Sehrazade-style, in a desperate attempt to keep him here as much as she can. "I want you inside me. I want to be one with you."

He kisses her fervently, his tongue making promises about that later, making her even more desperate for him.

He sets her down carefully and kneels before her, unbuttoning her jeans and dragging them down her legs. He pulls the tight fabric off and then throws them away. Then he takes off her panties, his eyes never leaving hers, and throws these away as well.

"I do love the view," he says and she loves this small glimpse into the Lucifer she knows is hiding under all this despair.

"I do like the way you look there, so you're more than welcome to it."

Before he stands, he kisses her right there, where she's most sensitive, a wet, soft , lingering kiss that is a promise in itself and she shivers helplessly.

When he does stand, getting him off his remaining clothes is a race. So many times he has teased and taunted her with his naked body, but this is the first she can touch, she can kiss.

The first time that this is hers alone-if only for a moment.

Her hand wraps around his erection- there is no room or time left for shyness- and she pumps him slowly, feeling the heft of him.

And he's even more beautiful, even more sexy when he's only hers to admire.

He moans shamelessly and pulls her for yet another burning kiss. His hand returns to the back of her head, cradling it against the roughness of the stone as he pushes her there, trapped between the wall and his body.

His fingers ghost over her breast, ribcage and hips until they reach her sex, gliding among her folds, wet as she is, and he groans mouthing and kissing at her neck as he pushes slowly his finger inside her.

She trembles at the sheer pleasure of it, at the knowledge that it's him touching her.

"Is all this for me darling? Oh, I want to drink you up," he whispers at the shell of her ear, his finger pumping and curling in the smartest of ways.

Her hand around his cock tightens, and he picks her up suddenly, his movements too fast, pushing her against the wall. She wraps her legs around him tightly, bringing him right where she wants him.

"Is this...alright?" he asks, his cock teasing her, bumping against her clit.

Her fingers sink in his hair and she licks at his perfectly carved lips, whispering her _yes_ as her legs tighten further.

And finally, _finally_ , he pushes in slowly, until he seats himself fully inside her and his hips are flush with hers , eyes locked and breaths mingling.

She welcomes that delicious ache, the stretch of muscles and holds him tighter, her hands wrapping around his neck, her lips busy on his skin.

His thrusts are slow and deep and Chloe can't help the small sounds of pleasure that escape, the feeling of being so filled by him simply incomparable. It's not long though before his rhythm picks up, before the slap of his hips becomes sharper, the pleasure greater. Her nails dig into the flesh of his back and he inhales sharply before their lips meet again in a bruising kiss.

Lucifer seems unable to take his eyes off of hers and it makes her feel even more electrified-the way that she seems to be the very centre of his world in this moment.

"You feel bloody perfect. All my fantasies pale in comparison," he breathes into her mouth, biting her lip.

She moans at his words and clenches around him, so terribly hungry for anything he has to give her.

And the Devil is so soft, so tender when it comes to her. His limbs twist and turn in an effort to keep her back from scraping against the wall. She wouldn't mind it but she also doesn't mind his care, his tenderness.

And so she is carefully cradled in his embrace, one of his hands holding the back of her head while his other arm is wrapped around her lower back, cushioning her body against the wall, his hand digging into her ass possessively, pushing her into him.

And all the while, he stares at her like she is his beginning and his ending-his alpha and his omega.

He looks at her in a way that both scares and thrills her and when he speaks it's only her name that slips from his lips.

" _Chloe_ ," he says and their foreheads touch and god he's hitting her in all the right places and both her heart and her body seem about ready to flutter away.

"Will you let me hear you darling?" he asks, voice almost pained. "I am starving for your pleasure Chloe."

"Yes, " her lips chant, her body desperate for it, but her heart whispers _no_.

_No, no, no._

She doesn't want this to end, doesn't want to come, because if she does, what then?

They will say their goodbyes and he will have to leave, leave _her_ again, won't he?

She knew this from the moment their lips touched but it doesn't mean that she likes it or accepts it.

She wants to keep him here between her legs forever. To whisper her love and sweet nothings to him between kisses and let him find his pleasure in her again and again.

"Chloe... Let go darling. I'll always catch you when you fall. _Let go,_ " he whispers, sucking her earlobe, his hips undulating, hitting her g-point relentlessly.

She doesn't have a choice, not really -her body as weak as her heart when it comes to him- and finds herself betrayed by her own wantoness, her own desire.

She guides him back to her lips by his hair, aching for every part of him when her pleasure finally reaches its peak.

She moans into his mouth, long and probably too filthy too, eyes tightly shut, white hot pleasure coursing through her entire body. 

It's so much more than anything she's ever felt-her entire existence overflowed by this impossible love she has for him.

When she opens her eyes again she finds crimson eyes staring back at her. 

Her name is his prayer, his mantra and after a few erratic thrusts he comes too, his eyes fiery and hungry on hers, his moan and the mere thought that she gave him _this_ , bringing a fresh wave of pleasure between her legs.

Their foreheads touch again and she kisses his eyes, overwhelmed by this moment and the maelstrom of emotions that is taking over inside her.

Her body suddenly spent, goes softer in his arms and he pulls her closer to him, walking away from the wall, their bodies still connected. She lays her head on his shoulder, her nose nuzzling his neck and closes her eyes, focusing on his smell.

She doesn't want to think about the fast approaching _later_. Doesn't want to face its possibilities.

He sets her down perpendicular on the bed, their bodies separating as he does so, and she feels the loss of him keenly.

He hovers over her, his eyes back to his warm brown, his hand unbearably soft as it maps the lines of her face and the contours of her body.

"You are breathtaking," he says, his thumb dipping into her belly button, before his tongue replaces it.

He kisses a line up to her chest and then lays there, with his face between her breasts and his waist between her legs.  
  


She runs her fingers through his sideburns, caressing his stubbly cheeks and he leans into her touch like a big cat, eagerly rubbing against her skin.

"You certainly lived up to your reputation," she says with a sad smile.

She thinks of his endless parade of lovers, all those who had merely wanted that one perfect night while all Chloe wants is an endless array of imperfect ones.

"Did I?" he asks and she is surprised at the insecurity she finds in his voice.

"Is Lucifer Morningstar.... insecure? About his sexual performance of all things?"

He shrugs a little and gives her a rare, shy smile.

"Does it surprise you Detective? This was a first for me. And you... well I want to please _you_ above all others."

"I should put your worries to rest then. Because that was wonderful. My fantasies pale in comparison," she throws back at him and he smiles, bright and pleased.

"I suppose you wouldn't object to more then?"

"I would not," she says, secretly elated, running her thumb over his lips. He kisses and nips it softly, his eyes back to their devilish naughtiness that she has missed so much.

He leaves languid kisses on her breasts, his eyes never straying from hers, his tongue twirling lazily around her nipples, before sucking each softly into his mouth.

She stares back mesmerized, bursting with love, with want, all her senses completely saturated by him.

It's a heavenly torture and she makes sure he stays there, her fingers locked around those dark curls.

His whole body is a live wire of electricity, pressing deliciously into her, making her crave for more.

And it seems that straight-laced mom Chloe has left the building because she can't remember ever being this vocal, this expressive.

And Lucifer revels in it. Every time she makes a sound, his lips press harder, suck longer and his fingers dig deeper into her skin.

And the way he looks at her...

Those eyes, so dark and captivating, so _wanting_ , focused exclusively on her.

She could come from this alone.

When he settles between her legs, pulling them lovingly on his shoulders, encouraging her to wrap like a vine around him, something old and bitter and half forgotten breaks inside her and against all reason, hope unfurls again in her gut, like a flower unfolding its petals before the light of the sun.

And his lips show her all the ways he wants to love her-all the ways he _does_ love her.

Soft and slow and scorching hot as he makes her beg for more and full of fire and passion as he gives and gives her all that she wants, all that she needs.

His groans turn louder the closer she gets and when their eyes meet again over her naked body, fingers and tongue inside her, the look he gives her is pure _sin_ and she shatters brilliantly into a million pieces, his, all completely, undeniably _his_.

She's still trembling, still clenching around his finger, when he's suddenly there, pressing his wet lips, his Chloe-coated tongue into her, burning with a passion her wildest dreams could never even fathom.

She moans wantonly, his attack as unexpected as this boundless desire that has taken over her entire being.

"The sounds you make, the way you look... You are simply stunning. Gorgeous. I could watch you come forever. I want to."

"Watch me then," she tells him, pushing him into the bed and straddling him, and he looks at her like she is magic, like she just granted his darker desire.

And maybe she has.

How many times had she dreamt of him coming apart in her hands?

Maybe he did too.

She takes his cock in her hand, touching softly, giving him an experimental squeeze, and he whimpers, a sound so vulnerable and she remembers his words, back when he reminded more of a feral, untamed creature than a man.

She knows the hunger that she sees in those eyes, knows because it's there in hers, too. She guides him through her folds, her hand tight around him, and they both moan as he glides in her wetness.

He holds himself still, muscles trembling with the effort, as she lowers herself onto him, agonizingly slowly, enjoying the way he rasps out his _yes-es_ and _please-s._

His hands glide up her thighs, past her ribcage until they cup her breasts and she starts to move her hips, eager to find the best way their bodies slot together.

She rides him, testing different rhythms, different moves, while he stares at her awestruck and reverent, his fingers caressing soft, sensitive flesh, making her whimper and groan.

"You are a vision. I can't stop looking at you," he gasps as she clenches around him and she leans down, desperate for his lips.

They kiss, their breaths on fire, her hair falling like a curtain around them and he grabs her roughly by her ass, grinding into her again and again until she gasps in his mouth and falls gloriously, right into his arms. It only takes a few more thrusts before he follows her, so absurdly beautiful under her.

"You're so beautiful," she whispers on his cheek. "So unbearably beautiful." One of his hands curls around her cheek and she turns into his touch, kissing his palm. His eyes turn even softer and he shakes his head with a sickly sweet smile and says,

"Oh darling, the Devil's got nothing on you,"  
and kisses her again, soft, so very soft that she wants to cry.

She collapses on top of him and his arms happily encircle her, fingers skating on sweaty, salty skin.

"I've made you all wet," he says in her hair and she can hear the smile in his voice. She lifts her head a little, fingers pushing her bangs out of her face and smiles at him.

"I've missed you so much," she confesses, just in case he hasn't realised yet, just in case it needs to be made clear.

"More than I could ever possibly explain," he says and just for a moment that solemnity is back. But then a smile curls his lips up and he asks her,

"Would you like to shower with me? I would love to clean you up."

And so minutes later they are in his enormous shower, hot water cascading on their bodies, his hands tangled in her hair as he washes them.

His body is a column of heat behind her and her mind is torn between this infinite tenderness that she never thought she'd get with him and her insatiable hunger, wanting him here too, again.

He lathers his hands up and washes her body as well and what she thought would be lecherous fun with soap becomes the most intimate moment she has shared with anyone in her life. Her heart starts hammering in her chest again and not in a fun way.

How is she supposed to let him go now?

After all this?

She _can't_.

She simply can't.

But it's not up to her now, is it?

She makes him kneel before her so she can wash his hair too, fingers scratching softly on his scalp, making him purr like a cat again.

He pulls her close to him as she massages his head and kisses her right above her belly-button, with the same aching tenderness.

Once they are sufficiently clean, he bundles her up in a soft towel and carries her back to his bed, his arms tight around her.

He asks about Trixie, Ella and Linda. He even asks about Dan. She asks him about Hell but he's not particularly eager to talk about it.

And that's fine. Because she doesn't want to talk either.

She can feel the seconds ticking by grating on her, like individual grains of sand slipping through the neck to the bottom half of an hourglass.

She's running out of time.

"What is it?" he asks, frowning.

"I am missing you. _Already_ ," she says and pulls his face to her, molding her lips to his hotly. He reciprocates at once, his hands everywhere.

Towels are thrown away carelessly and they come together again, their hunger undiminished.

Watching him come undone under her touch and lips is intoxicating, a brand new addiction that she has no idea how to live without.

And when his eyes flash crimson again-  
her desire becomes a scorching lava river, incinerating everything in its wake.

And Lucifer is everywhere this time. Over her, behind her, a hot line all along her body-his hands expertly rearranging limbs for their shared pleasure.

Has she ever been anyone else's more than she is his tonight?

More than she is his, _period_?

Later as they lay on his bed, limbs intertwined and hands constantly drawn to skin, she gathers all the courage she's got left in her heart, and with liquid eyes she tells him,

"Ask me."

He narrows his eyes playfully, lips pouting.

"You think sex might have changed something?" he teases.

"Ask me," she tells him again, lips curling softly into a smile.

He looks at her with those eyes, dark molten chocolate, and with the way he holds her she feels closer to him than ever before.

"What is it that you desire, Chloe Jane Decker?"

" _You_. I desire you, Lucifer. However I can have you. But only if _you_ want me too."

"Chloe, darling, you don't want such a life," he says conflicted.

"Don't choose for me again. And don't make me say goodbye again, too. _Please_."

Her voice has a slight tremble and she can feel the sting of tears behind her eyes.

But then all she can feel is his lips and his hand, warm and large as it cradles her face.

"I don't want that for you. You deserve so much more than what I can give you. But bloody hell _I_ want it. For _me_. For me it's everything. I've never wanted anything more Chloe."

"It's yours. _I'm_ yours."

He kisses her; it's filthy and messy and it makes her draw herself even closer to him.

"You can have the Devil on a leash darling. I'd happily follow you anywhere." She laughs, absurdly happy and kisses his nose. "Even where I can't truly go. I'll follow you there too, no matter the price. I'd do _anything_ for you."

The way he says that gives her pause. She's always wondered how much supernatural action she had missed back when she still thought all this was just an elaborate metaphor.

"How much is there that I don't know about?"

She watches him, eyes going from guilty to defiant and then back to guilty again.

"Quite a few I'd say. But there's no hiding now, is there?"

"Not really, no," she says with a smile, trying to suppress a full body shiver.

"Are you cold, darling?"

"I shouldn't be, given how warm you are but I guess I'm tired."

"Did the Devil wear you out then?" he asks with a bright smile, fingers fanning on her back to cover more skin.

"The Devil can wear me out whenever he wants," she assures him and kisses the corner of his mouth.

"I will take you up on that Detective! Now, wait here," he says and disentangles himself from her, getting out of bed and walking into his closet. She admires his naked form languidly-those broad shoulders and narrow waist and that ass that may or may not be slightly scratched.

He returns with one of his white shirts. He holds it out to her, helping her put it on and buttoning up just a few of the buttons.

He looks at her, eyes piercing, wanting.

"You look unbelievably sexy in my clothes. That time when I walked in and found you asleep on my bed, in my clothes... I was so absurdly jealous of that shirt," he confesses, his thumb pressing softly on the bullet.

"I was jealous too. So very jealous." She frowns. "So much time lost Lucifer."

"Well, we're here now. It's still more than I ever allowed myself to hope for."

"We'll find a way to make it work, won't we?" she asks, and for once she wouldn't mind a lie from him if his intended answer is a _no._

"We will. _I_ will, Chloe, no matter what."

He kisses her eyelids and gathers her in his arms. And she feels so small there, so small and safe, swallowed up as she is by his much larger frame.

"I love you," she whispers into the skin of his shoulder, kissing a small constellation of freckles found there. His arms tighten around her and she can feel his trembling inhale. He kisses the crown of her head, his fingers finding her chin and tilting it up, until their eyes meet.

"Chloe, I--" he struggles for words when there really is no need to.

"Sshhh. You don't have to say the words baby. Your eyes... they tell me all that I need to know."

He kisses her, passionately, insistently, and she surrenders to his will completely.

"I'd like to make love to you again now," he breathes onto the shell of her ear after leaving a love bite on her neck.

" _Yes_ ," she agrees, but it's more of a plea, a call for his sweet mercy, an imploration to have the other half of her soul in place again.

And he takes his sweet time with her. Makes her beg and plead for more, makes her turn his name into a prayer on her lips. And he watches her, bewitched, enraptured through all his lovely ministrations.

Later, when they are fused into one being, his body covering hers, their fingers intertwined above her head, when the only sounds are their moans and whimpers and an occasional praise or a _do you like this_ , Lucifer starts talking.

"I don't want to be without you, ever again." His eyes are soft but full of anguish. "Promise me. Promise you won't run once the revelations begin."

She moans, already so close but all her brain can provide concerning revelations is the end of the world. One of his hands finds her clit and starts caressing and oh _go-osh_ it feels so good, so perfect that she almost forgets there is a reply to be given.

"You aren't referring to the end of the world, right?" she stutters out, her words garbled by a moan toward the end. He laughs, and the vibrations feel absolutely wonderful.

"It's more personal I'm afraid." He kisses her, long, deep, seductively, leaving her breathless. "I can feel you. You're close, aren't you?"

" _Yes_. Yes, I'm close. And yes, I promise. No more running. Just--"

She's out of words, out of breath and all she can feel is him. Him all around her, him inside her and this blinding pleasure taking over her entire being.

"Oh bloody - _fuck_!" he curse- whispers (he _never_ curses) and it's so hot and it's _hers_ and she moans along with him as he finds his pleasure.

He collapses on top of her and she holds him there, running her fingers through his sweat damp curls, adorable curls that she never had the chance of seeing or touching before.

She waits for his breathing to even out before she speaks.

"I ran once... with terrible consequences, I--"

"That wasn't your fault," he says lifting his head from the crook of her neck, eyes serious, imploring.

"Wasn't it? It all boiled down to Kinley. I brought him here--"

"It wasn't your fault. _Please_ don't harbor guilt over it." Ah, yes. Because guilt drives you to hell. "He made his own decisions. You are not to be held responsible for them. _You_ told me that, remember?"

"I remember." Red, ravaged skin. Scarlet, devastated eyes. And a burning desire to kiss him. "No more running. I can face anything with you on my side."

"As can I, Chloe," he says, happy, happier than she has ever seen him, and she pulls him to her for another kiss. 

"I fear it's horribly past your bedtime Detective." He finds the shirt, tucking her back into it.

"It is. And I am quite blissfully exhausted. But... You'll still be here when I wake up, right? You won't disappear, like some dream forever out of my grasp?"

"No, Chloe, _no_. Of course I'll be here. This is only the beginning darling. I promise."

"Okay. Alright. Hold me?"

"I would love to hold you," he says and curls around her like a parenthesis, the perfect big spoon. "Sleep tight darling. The Devil's got your back."

She pulls one of his hands to her lips, kissing each knuckle.

"Goodnight Lucifer."

She focuses on his breathing and his scent all around her. On the sound of his heart, beating steadily against her back.

She's asleep in seconds.

When she wakes up, it's to sunlight streaming in through his sheer, dark curtains. She blinks some, getting her bearings, and revisits the previous night.

The night had definitely taken an unexpected turn.

She knew Lucifer was full of passion but she had never experienced it in this far more intimate way.

They were friends and they worked together and still his fire always shone through.

And this is what she craves for. His fire. From the blazing heat of a raging inferno to the warmth of a soft flame, he is the spark that sets her alight. The heat that inspires the passions she has kept under lock and key inside her.

He has breathed life back into her. Like a mystical creature, his breath thawing her frozen existence, filling her up with warmth, with _life_.

And said fire is never put to sleep apparently.

Lucifer is still wrapped around her, his hands in all the right places.

She smiles to herself.

One of Lucifer's hands is cupping her breast while the other rests on her pubic bone, fingers fanning out to places.

His very insistent morning wood is not helping much either.

She sucks her thumb in her mouth and lets her hand slip between their bodies, fingers caressing softly his length as her thumb rubs soft circles on his head.

He moans in his sleep and then blinks awake, a huge grin spreading on those perfect lips.

"Hello there, you little minx. Best bloody morning ever."

She twists in his arms, coming face to face, and kisses his still sleepy eyes.

"You're adorable, all sleep mussed, with your curly hair."

"The devil doesn't do adorable." A pause. " Do you like it?"

"I love it," she says and kisses his nose.

"In that case, maybe he does."

"You seem rather susceptible to my charms."

He looks at her, with that softness that seems reserved just for her and tells her with a smile,

"You have no idea, darling."

"In that case...." She straddles him, hair falling all around him and asks him as seductively as she can,

"What is it that you truly desire?"

"You. You. _You_. My partner, my dearest friend, the first and _only_ woman I've--  
I desire you _more_ than anything in thewhole bloody cosmos. I've never wanted anyone or anything more than I want you."

She blinks back tears. She expected something naughty, something fun, not this.

She smiles at him, eyes crinkling happily.

"You're in luck then. Because I'm yours. Completely, unequivocally _yours_."

"This is real then? It's happening?"

"Looks like it. Are you scared?" she asks teasingly.

"Scared? Please! I m terrified!" She snort-giggles in that awful way of hers while he smiles, endeared, at what exactly she's not sure. "It's true. I am _terrified_ of mucking it up."

"You won't. I have faith in you."

"It's more than anyone has ever given me."

She cups his cheeks in her hands, thumbs brushing over those beautiful cheekbones and kisses him. First, under his eyes, then on the tip of his nose and finally at the corner of his mouth.

"I am here for you and I've got your back as well. Partners, remember?"

She kisses him on the lips then- a soft, unhurried kiss, full of promises for their future.

No matter what it might hold for them. Good or bad she can take anything on with him by her side.

Even his crazy-ass brother. His _entire_ family if she has to.

Chloe Jane Decker has a mean right hook (her dad taught her that) and she's not afraid to use it. Even if it means breaking her hand in the process.  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Oof.
> 
> (It's not gonna go like this but I really enjoyed writing it😅)
> 
> Title is from Snow Patrol's 'what if the storm ends'
> 
> What if this storm ends?  
> And leaves us nothing  
> Except a memory  
> A distant echo
> 
> I want pinned down  
> I want unsettled  
> Rattle cage after cage  
> Until my blood boils
> 
> I want to see you  
> As you are now  
> Every single day  
> That I am living
> 
> Painted in flames  
> All peeling thunder  
> Be the lightning in me  
> That strikes relentless
> 
> As always thank you for reading❤️


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